The Art Dragon
by Angela Fate
Summary: When Angela moves into a new city and school, can she be fully prepared for what happens next? Her two new friends Adam and Emma can't seem to understand her fascination with Dominic, despite their protests that he isn't one she should be hanging out with
1. Chapter 1

**Hey Guys! So I'm Angela, and this is my first posting (not story) for FanFiction! I hope you enjoy it. It will kind of follow a fairy tale-type plot to it (you know, the helpers, the good, the bad, the mistaken, so on and so forth.) And the main character's name is Angela too! Ahaha! Enjoy!**

_I tried to move, but my feet stood firmly in place. I could feel my eyes bulge, and my pupils became dilated. A strong pair of arms shook me, and a gentle voice called out my name._

"Angela! Wake up!" My eyes opened in a startled fashion. I saw my mother looking down at me. "It's time for your first day." She smiled and walked out of my room. Great. That's just great. Because all I need is to be the "new kid" again. I wasn't ready for this. I had been to 5 schools in the past 3 years. It was my senior year, (although I was much, much older) and this, as my mother put it, was my last stop. No more running, no more leaving, no more packing. Which we were still doing. Or, rather, unpacking. There were still boxes lying around the house. I had to leave my other 5 high schools because of my lack of social ability. It's not because I'm awkward or anything, it isn't even my fault. According to some. But things have happened that have made me run away. And my mother was all too willing to run with me. 

Whatever. I rose from my bed and went to pick out some clothes. I never really had a certain "style." I just wore what I liked. And today I liked my new pair of jeans and my white cami, along with some white sandals. Florida. That was the thing I really liked about our move. It was warm, and it was still summer. So I could go swimming, and I could tan, and I could wear cami's. My favorite things of all time. I really hoped I could pull it off. The whole "new girl" thing, I mean. Switching schools, moreover states, came with great opportunities. I had been so socially awkward at my past 5 schools. And people made fun of me, or completely ignored me. So I left. It was miserable. But I had finally grown into myself. My chest finally filled out, I grew a few inches, which put me at 5 foot 4, and I lost my loser braces. All in all, I did feel like a new person. But my old self image still haunted me. 

The new school was public, thank goodness, so I didn't have to wear those awful uniforms from some of my other schools. I pulled on some shoes and headed down the stairs. My house contained largely of bookshelves and paintings. I was the reader, and my mom was the painter. Mom started off as an admirer, but over the years, she picked up the brush. And as it turns out, she's amazing. Seriously. She sells her work, and we conveniently relocated near a market where she could sell the paintings. My room was covered in her painting, the halls lined with them. She thought it was embarrassing that I showed off her work that much, but I was really proud of her. She recently went through a divorce. It didn't affect me much, since my dad was never really involved in our family life anyway, but I could tell it took a toll on her. She was still in love with the man she first met. But he had changed. The good thing was, though, that she had changed too. In a good way, I mean. She grew stronger as a person, and was able to learn to fight for herself. And for me. 

I heard my mother singing in the kitchen. I had always had a pretty good voice, but it was obvious that I hadn't inherited it from her. Not that she was bad, but, well, yeah, it wasn't good. I swung around the banister, and almost fell at the bottom, but caught myself on the railing. My mom heard. 

"Angela...watch yourself. You don't want a broken leg on your first day of school." She had her smug voice on. Whatever. It actually wasn't the first of school. For everyone else at school, it was the second. But I got the first day off so I could collect my thoughts and such. My plan was pretty basic though: Go, don't die, leave. When I say 'don't die' though, it involves quite a few things. First, because of my extreme lack of balance, that meant I should try not to make a fool of myself by falling down the stairs at school or anything like that. Second, I was awkward around guys. I didn't talk to guys, and they didn't talk to me. That's just how it went. So, basically, don't die by making a fool out yourself by stuttering when a guy approaches you. And third, do not, by ANY means, start to subconsciously sing at school. It was a bad habit that had developed over the summer break. While we were moving, and the divorce was finally ending, I could only escape through music. It had turned subconscious, the way I had randomly started singing in the middle of a public place, and I hadn't even realized I was singing until my mom shot me warning glances. You know the ones. Stop, you're embarrassing me, and its rude to sing in public. Yeah...I got those a lot. 

By now I was sitting at the kitchen table and eating some Cheerios. Mom was still singing softly. Not ugly, no. Soothing, in a weird way. 

I was torn out of my thoughts and my review of my 'don't die' plan by my mother. "You do realize that you are 5 minutes late, right?" Oh gee, thanks for the advanced warning mom. Whatever. I ran to go brush my teeth, and I grabbed my school bag. Tearing the keys off of the hanger, I headed out to the car, and started the ignition. My music came blasting through the speakers. I laughed. I guess I was having too much fun last night before my new life at school. My mom poked her head out of the front door and gave me the look. The other one. The one that says, you are so weird. She smirked, and then waved at me, and mouthing to her that I loved her, I headed for school.

I reached the school in 5 minutes. It wasn't very far to go. I could walk the distance, but that would undo my multi-layered deodorant, and I didn't want that. Besides, I already knew that all the other seniors would drive their cars to school. I parked, and got out of my car. I walked along the sidewalk until I reached the entrance gate to the school. Okay, you can do this. Just, don't freak. And don't die. 

I scanned the crowd outside. In the grass, were the druggies, as I expected, and on the sidewalks, were the skaters and punks skateboarding around, occasionally falling down on their butts. I had to hold back a smirk. I didn't want the people here to look at me and immediately think I thought I was better than them. Like that would ever happen. Except, maybe, for the druggies. Oh, and of course, lounging around on the stairway, were the elite. I had heard about them. The pretty snobs and the jocks. My heart tore in half when I saw them, and made myself look away. I turned away from them, and headed up the stairs to go into the school office.

And then I was on the ground. I jumped up and put myself in a casual, but still alert, fighting stance. 

"Woah! Sorry there. Didn't see you. Don't kill me or anything, it was an accident." I relaxed a little. It was one of those skaters. He must have hit me from behind while riding his skateboard. I sighed. New schools put me on edge. Plus, mom made me sign up for self defense classes over the summer. I didn't get a great look at him, because the sun was extra bright today. From all I could see, he was just a tall shadow blocking out a portion of it. I nodded, and walked away. 

"You got a name?" He shouted after me. I remembered that normal people with some sort of social life generally exchanged these things. 

"Yeah. It's Angela." I turned around briefly to answer him, and then headed on into the building. I heard his skateboard start to roll on the ground again, and I sighed. Better not to be late on my first day. I looked down at my school map I had been holding. The office was right in front. I went into it, and talked to Mrs. Shield. A quite unfriendly secretary, if you ask me. But then, who was I to talk? Oh yeah, I didn't. I got my schedule from her and studied it for a while, and then highlighted where my classes were on the school map.

Homeroom: Room 221.

AP Art History: Room 112

AP French 4: Room 201

Biology: Room 312

Math: Room 214

AP Music: Room 115

Honors English 4: Room 216

I loved music and art (because of my mother), as well as history, so I chose to take advanced classes in those subjects. It would look good on my college transcripts. Since I didn't have much of a social life, I had lots of time to spend on school. I was pretty good in everything, except for math and science. Go figure. I headed for the second floor, which was where my homeroom was and scanned the top of the doors for numbers. Room 224, 223, 222, and 221. There it was. I opened the door, and stepped inside. 

Great. Everyone else was already seated. The teacher was reading something off of a list, and I heard my name. I watched as the teacher looked around the room for me. 

"Angela Sword? Is there an Angela Sword in the room?" Her voice cracked as she said my name for the third time, and the room broke into a unanimous laugh. I couldn't help but laugh along. Then I heard his voice again.

"I think she's right there, Ms. Harp." It was the same person from the parking lot who almost killed me. Okay, well, he didn't nearly kill me, but hey, it was my first day. I deserve a few chances to over-exaggerate. Anyway, he totally was pointing at my place by the door. Wait, that means he remembered my name! But then, I suppose if you almost kill someone with your skateboard, you ought to be able to remember their name. I know, I know, quit it with the exaggerations. Whatever. I think that word was kind of becoming my new motto. Whatever. 

I realized the whole class was staring at me, while the teacher shuffled around her desk to reach me. She was shorter than me. And that's saying a lot. You know, considering my height and everything. But then, she must have been like 90 or something. Okay, well, not _that_ old, but she was getting there. 

"Ah, Miss Sword! You are new this year, yes? Well, don't just stand there, introduce yourself to the class." Crap. By now _everyone_ was watching me blush holes in my cheeks. Including the guy from this morning. And I didn't know his name. Since I'm so socially incompetent and didn't ask for it. Like normal people do. What _is_ normal, anyway? Whatever. Oh, yeah, I was supposed to be introducing myself. At least over the past year at self-defense classes I had gotten over my fear of speaking in front of people. 

"Um, hi. I'm Angela. I moved here from Los Angeles. I'm new…" Geez. I'm _new?_ Way to be obvious. I was so awkward. Some of the people in the back smirked, and I blushed even more furiously. 

"That's great dear. Just go sit in that seat behind Adam. He'll show you around this first week, to give you a nice new experience." Great. Maybe he can finish me off with his skateboard later. Except for the fact that when I went to find my seat, I got to look at him. In good light, since this morning I couldn't really see his face. He was g-o-r-g-o-u-e-s! Not even kidding! I mean, it should be an honor that I sit behind him, let him walk me around school, even get run over by him! I realized I probably looked like a gaping freak, so I tried to act natural. Good luck, I know.

"So, um, yeah, you're Adam right?" Suave. Very suave. Especially when a bimbo blonde totally "tripped" and fell into his lap. Which, you know, I wouldn't mind falling into.

Wait. Did he have a girlfriend? Just my luck. Huh. But then he totally pushed her off of him. Seriously. Like, we're talking shoving a girl off of your lap kind of thing. 

"Geez, Ashley, get a freaking life, seriously!" and she just stuck her tongue out at him and walked off. Maybe I was seeing things. Scratch that, maybe I was _hearing_ things, because I think he just said something to me. Which should make sense, since I just spoke to him. In an awkward, weird kind of way. Whatever. I should probably listen.

"Sorry. That's Ashley. She's my sister's slut of a friend. Not even in this homeroom, actually. I wonder how she got past Ms. Harp. Anyway, hey, sorry about this morning. I didn't see you. The sun was really bright, and I tripped when I was doing my turn. Those are pretty tricky. I've been working on my 360's all summer but, oh. You probably don't care about skateboarding that much. Especially since I gave you that nasty bruise." Wow, he was so, natural at talking. Like, he talked a lot. Naturally. Weird. Wait. WHAT! A bruise? I felt around my forehead frantically, and must have looked really stupid because he started laughing. 

"Hey, only kidding. You don't have a bruise. Not from anywhere _I_ can see anyway." That made him smirk. Ha ha. Woah. From where he could see? What was this place? Perv central! Oh, wait. High school. Just kidding.

"Oh. Right. Sorry. First day jitters, I guess. So, um, you go here?" Oh. My. Goodness. Did I really just ask that? _Does he GO here!_ I'm mental. I am, I really, really am, and no one has told me about. I am going to have to speak to my mother about this. 

And then of course, all of these other guys start laughing. Behind me and Adam. Wearing their skateboarding gear. They were probably his gang, or something like that. That would be interesting. To be in a gang, I mean. 

"Um, yeah, I go here. You okay? Maybe I hit you too hard." He was laughing too. But not in the "she's so stupid I'm going to laugh right in her face way." It was in more of a "she's so shy, I'm going to make her laugh so she feels better way." Aw. Wait. I don't need his pity! Okay, maybe I do, but I won't admit that. Except that I just did. Whatever. I smiled at him, to try and make it seem like I wasn't completely insane. 

"So, I'm Adam, this," he patted a guy behind him on the shoulder, "is Josh. That's Emma, Harrison, and Spot." He pointed to each of them in turn. "Spot isn't his real name, but he landed a real bad flip once, and got this huge bruise that covered half his face. It looked like a spot you would see on a dog, so we've called him that ever since. Emma is my sister, and Josh, Harrison, and Spot are pretty much my brothers. Cross them, and I will hurt you." He looked at me with a glare on his face for half a second, and then burst out laughing again. He was joking. Good. I was freaking out for that half a second there. Still was after that, actually. Well, I was _really_ happy that Emma was his sister. She was like, amazingly pretty. And I did _not_ want competition. Oh my goodness. What was wrong with me? Competition for Adam? It wasn't like he would consider me, and even if he did, I wouldn't be able to match up to Emma. But I thought that Adam said his sister had a slutty friend. Confusing. They didn't strike me as the type of people to hand out with bimbos. 

Apparently, Adam knew what I was thinking. "I have two sisters. Emma is the cool one. My other one is Monica. She's friends with that Ashley chick." 

"Hah, like I would _ever_ hang out with Monica's crowd. That hurts Angela. A lot." She pretended to cry, and smiled and then held out her hand. "Put it there, sister. You look pretty cool. Hang out with us, and you won't get stuck with _them._" She pointed over at the popular group, who were handing around bottles. No doubt alcohol. 

I liked Emma. She seemed pretty decent. Maybe I should get to know her better. But maybe I should just keep to myself. That seemed to be a better way to protect myself. Of course, mom always said it just hurt me more. 

I shook her hand, and pulled my hand back quickly. It was weird, like some sort of electric shock or something. But then, maybe that was just because of her skateboarding and stuff. She looked surprised as well, and passed along a look at her brother and raised an eyebrow. Well, I don't know about people in Florida, but things like that happened a lot where I was from. Maybe Floridians are just different like that. Whatever.

The bell rang, and everyone started to stand up, which I supposed meant that it was time for first period. I had AP Art History first. I asked Adam if he had that class, and he gave me a really weird look.

"Your taking _AP_ Art History. Man, don't you have like a life or anything? Art History is hard as it is. And AP course? That's harsh. Nah, I don't wouldn't go near that class. I would have to have at _least_ 5 cups of coffee if I wanted to keep up in that class. You must be a genius or something, right?" He was rambling. He does that a lot, I noticed. 

"Um, no, I mean, I just, um, have a lot of time to study." I sighed. It was a little overbearing to be around Adam. He just talked so _much._ I would have to find my class on my own.

**So that was Chapter 1. Sorry it was a little short, chapter two might be as well, but with your help, I can make god revisions! Reviews are GREATLY appreciated! Thanks, guys! -Ang.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again! This is Chapter 2--It's short, I know, but things will move along soon-I promise:**

**I hope you enjoy it! This chapter is one of my favorites!**

It didn't take too terribly long. It was on the lower level, and the numbers on every classroom door made it easier. When I got there, I was surprised to see only 3 other people in the class. Maybe I was early. But then I heard the bell ring, so maybe the class was just really small. I went in, and handed a note to the teacher in the front. He was a young man, and looked fresh out of college. I was pretty surprised to see someone his age teaching an advanced placement class for seniors. Whatever. 

He showed me to a big table. There were 6 in the room, and with only four people, we each got our own. The other three people weren't people I would categorize. Kind of like myself. They didn't fit into my groups of the elite, the punks, or the druggies. And, lucky me, they were all boys. _Great_. And with a male teacher, I was sure to be able to get by the day without stuttering and making incomprehensible sentences! Humph. 

The guys were all huddled up, like they were sharing some secret. Hello! Only the second day of school! What could you _possibly_ have to gossip about. Luckily, this gave me an opportunity to check them out. Hey, maybe I couldn't talk to boys, but I'm not weird on the hormone level. I _did_ go through puberty, and from what I could see, these boys were pretty good looking. The first one I could get a good look at was about my same height. Short. He was pretty cute though. But more in a teddy bear kind of way. He had shaggy red hair and looked like he was trying to grow a mustache. The second was about a foot taller. He had a buzz cut, and was wearing a tight shirt that clearly showed a strong six pack. His arms were very nicely cut as well. The third was somewhere in between the other two. Heights-wise, that is. His hair was a dirty blonde, and shaggy. He wasn't as muscular as the second, but more so than red ted. 

I decided to turn around before they caught me looking at them with goo-goo eyes. I took a seat at my table, and pulled out paper and a pen. I heard some chairs scratching behind me, and figured that the other guys were taking their seats. The teacher walked up to the whiteboard and wrote his name: **Mr. Westley.**

"Hello class," he said, and turned around to look at the four of us."We have a new student. This is Angela Sword. Angela, these other knuckle heads are Sam, "he pointed at the red head, "Michael," pointing at the blonde, "and Dimitri," he finished, pointing out the guy with the really nice muscles. I turned around in my chair, to acknowledge that I had heard, and all three, who had been joking around about something, stopped and looked up at me. 

And that was when it happened. I had been scanning their faces, until I reached Dimitri's. He looked up at me, at first in a bored sort of way, until he met my eyes. We were locked into each other's eyes, and it seemed as though the walls and floors melted away. He, I mean, he was _perfect_. Clearly when I had just seen his side portfolio from earlier, I wasn't serving him justice. He was incredible. The way his jaw was set perfectly, like one of those Greek Sculptures of the gods, all hard, but still soft in a way. His eyes. Oh, his eyes. They were a startling green. And I didn't expect it, from his blonde hair, which, by the way, was perfect too. I felt my heart skip a beat. This boy, this amazing boy, was too good to be true. But then he looked back down, and started back on whatever sketch he had been working on. The other two smiled at me, and then looked a little concerned after they had exchanged their names. I guess I looked a little fluttered after my little Dimitri moment. I smiled at them, and introduced myself, and turned back around in my chair.

"So, class. This is not going to be some boring old school Art History class. When I asked the previous teacher here what he usually covered, he said he went over the textbooks, and you took notes." He slammed his hand down on my desk, and I let out a little squeak in surprise. "Not while I'm here!" And then he started laughing. Oh, I get it. He's one of those fun teachers, where you actually have fun in their classes and can call them by their first names. "No, we will cover the texts, take some notes, but we will actually DO the art we are learning about! Now I know we can't built Egyptian pyramids, wise guy in the back," I turned around and glanced at Sam, who had started to raise his hand, I guessed in attempt to make a smart little comment. His face turned bright red, and he pulled his hand back down. The nerdy, shy type then. Aw! "No, we will cover other Egyptian artwork that we will be doing ourselves. Obviously I can't grade you on your expertise in artwork, but guessing that you _do_ artwork, hence taking this course, me grading your efforts will come to you by no surprise. Tonight's homework," I heard a groan in the back, coming from Michael's direction, "is to write a paragraph of your favorite type of art, and why. What you hope to gain from this course, and what you want to name our class pet." Okay, not hard. I like, wait. What? Class pet? "Yes, Angela, we have a class pet. I brought him in yesterday, but since you weren't here, we didn't decide on what to call him without your input." 

I looked around the room, trying to find this pet he was talking about. Weren't class pets the type of thing you had in 3rd grade? I looked back at the teacher. 

"Um, Mr. Westley, I-" 

"No,", he interrupted me, "please call me Max."

"Okay, Max, but, um, I don't see a pet anywhere." I heard laughter. Was my comment really that funny?

"Actually, Angela, our pet isn't real. He's a clay sculpture depicting a dragon. Since this is an art course, we will, over the year, decorate and design him using the knowledge we accumulate over the sections we cover. By the end of the year, we will have quite a mixed breed." He really was an odd person. But funny, too. It was an interesting idea. I never would have come up with it myself. 

Michael suddenly spoke up, and I immediately knew his role. Jokester. "So, basically, a bunch of dragons mated together from Egypt, Rome, Greece, Latin America, Africa…"

"Yes, yes, Michael, I suppose one could look at it that way…" Max interrupted him before he got into much more detail about the mating courses that led to our pet dragon. "But there really is a bigger picture to our pet here. Can anyone try and guess what that could be? Any thoughts? Dimitri?"

I immediately swung around in my chair, to look at Dimitri. He had his hand in the air, and was, as far as I could tell, finished with his sketch. 

"As far as I can tell, this project, or, um, pet, I mean, could represent the beauty of the originality of all the different cultural art techniques from all over the world, from all different time periods. A gathering of every people's knowledge of art, as well as passion for it, could result in not only interesting material, but fascinating and beautiful as well." When he was done, he scribbled something down on his sketch, and looked back up at Max. 

Woah. I mean, who knew guys could be this insightful? That sounded like, he really meant it. Which, you know, is hard to find. A guy who means what he says, I mean. He was immediately cast as the mysterious, brooding, intelligent, perfect, insightful, perfect type of guy. Did I mention he was perfect? 

Max looked appalled, as well as I did, I'm sure. "Well, um, Dimitri, that's right. That's exactly right!" Max suddenly got very excited. I think I like this teacher. "Does everyone see? Every person's culture, every person's ideals, creativity, passion, background, can be put into a work of art. With all of those feelings represented in a work of art, mixed with so many others, the ending result would be incredible! Absolutely well put, Dimitri!"

I _really_ like this class.

"So, what are we going to name it?" Sam asked in the back of the room.

After about fifteen minutes of me watching all of the guys, even Max, argue over what the name of the dragon should be, and us getting absolutely nowhere, I finally spoke up. I had to whistle first, though. Which surprised me. My whistling, I mean. I actually didn't know I _could_ whistle. I guess after how many times I've seen Snow White and the Seven Dwarves, I've seen it enough to do it on my own. It surprised me as well, to find out that I could take charge. I never really tried to get anyone's attention before, though, so I guess that's why. They all stopped arguing and looked at me, just as equally surprised. I noticed that maybe I had misjudged Dimitri. He wasn't all that mysterious and brooding. He was actually pretty easygoing, as well as insightful…and perfect. I guess he just seems more serious when he's concentrating in class or something. 

Anyway, they all looked at me expectantly. Then I suggested that maybe we shouldn't name the dragon. Not yet anyway. I told them that maybe we would find a more fitting name once we knew what it would look like in the end, since it was sure to be…different looking. And then they all just kept staring at me, until Dimitri cleared his throat. 

"That's actually, a really good idea. I think that's actually a great idea. Cause, I mean, it would suck if we named it something like Ben, and it came out looking like a girl, right?" and then it was decided. Among other things. One, that the dragon would remain nameless until the end of the year, and two, that I was totally crushing on Dimitri. Maybe it was the fact that he had agreed with my naming idea, or maybe it was our eye-locking moment, or maybe it was his insightful comment, or maybe it was everything. Whatever it was though, he was perfect. And I totally liked him. I liked Dimitri.

**So what didyou think? Review and let me know! Please and thank you! -Ang.**


End file.
